


Equals

by naarna



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Competition, F/M, Healer Draco Malfoy, Healer Hermione Granger, Promotion, written for the Godric's Hollow September Challenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-04
Updated: 2017-10-04
Packaged: 2019-01-09 03:47:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12268245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/naarna/pseuds/naarna
Summary: When a competition between equals for a higher position at St. Mungo's goes wrong...





	Equals

**Author's Note:**

> This story was written for the September Challenge in the FB group “Godric's Hollow”, the theme was _“Career in the Wizarding World”_.   
>  A shout-out to the awesome people in that group—I love you all!
> 
> And last but not least, many thanks to _leoprior_ for finding the time to check for grammar and spelling despite his own workload!  <3 **  
> **
> 
> (I'm considering turning this into a longer piece, but it might have to wait a while as I have other stories I'd like to write or finish first...)

“It's all your fault, Granger.”

Hermione turned her head to gape at Malfoy, astonished at his words. Oh no, it wasn't solely her fault that they were now sitting outside the office of their Head of Department at St. Mungo's. “It's not, _Malfoy_.”

“It was your _experimental_ treatment that went wrong, not mine,” he said, narrowing his eyes at her before he sneered. “You almost killed him.”

“As if!” She huffed, staring right back into his piercing grey eyes that had others recoil in fear—but these intimidation tactics did not work with her. “What about that experimental potion you had been working on and that you thought would solve the case? It didn't work!”

“Oh come on, we agreed on the diagnosis! The potion _should_ have worked!”

“Maybe you're not as good a potioneer as you thought–”

“Don't, Granger! I'm the one with the internship with Snape—the only one he ever took!”

She clicked her tongue. “What an _honour_ for you! He was your godfather; of course he would take you on!”

Visibly irritated, he glared at her for her patronising words. “You were only mediocre back in Hogwarts; even in our eighth year you were barely able to keep up with me!”

“How long are you going to hold that against me?” she retorted and straightened herself to level out the height difference between them as good as she could—at least sitting down, the difference was rather small, as he mostly profited from long legs. “Theoretical work isn't everything; I can keep up with you easily!”

He only scrunched his face at her.

“You know why? Because I don't think it's below me to brew the most basic healing potions myself if needs be. I know them by heart, while you usually wander off to work on some theoretical potion or other. You're good at what you do, but it's no excuse to think that the mundane stuff is beneath you.”

His face still scrunched, he stared at her for a couple of seconds before he softened his features into his usual sneer. “You think you deserve the job just because you know how to brew simple healing potions? Is that what you want to say?”

“Oh, you think _you_ deserve it?”

“Yes.”

“Oh come on, _you_ in a superior position...”

He leaned towards her, his grey eyes turning a shade darker as he narrowed them. “What's your problem with that? Don't want to work under me? I've worked just as hard to deserve the promotion as you did, but I didn't fuck it up.”

“I did not fuck it up. Maybe it was still your potion!”

“It would have worked if you hadn't started that experiment of yours without letting me know–”

“YOU didn't let me know you were even working on a potion!” she cut him off, her voice cracking with anger. Oh, how she hated his presumptuous arse at this moment! He had the guts to deny that his potion wasn't at fault for their patient almost dying! “Healers work in a team, have you forgotten that?”

“You, a team player?” he replied with a loud sneer. “If only you could hear the other Healers talk about you! You aren't exactly Miss Popular, you know?”

She huffed at him. He was right, she wasn't the most popular amongst their colleagues, but she was always the one they would come to if they had run out of options, hoping she had another idea. “You prefer to play the mysterious, handsome doctor which no one knows exactly what he does here–”

A playful smirk appeared on his face, and he leaned an inch closer, invading her personal space even further. “You think I'm handsome?”

For an eternally long second, she simply stared at him, in her mind going over what she had just said. Her lip twitched slightly as the only response to his tease,; she had long learned to keep her blushing under control. Merlin, he was a right bastard! Of course, he _was_ handsome—an athletic physique, long legs, softest hands ever, those pale grey eyes, but above all, the only person able to keep challenging her. “Don't get cocky over it.”

Draco was stopped from responding to her remark by the office door opening, revealing a secretary with a rather cross expression. “Healers Malfoy and Granger, she is ready for you.”

* * *

 

Their boss was a stern looking woman, tapping impatiently on her desk when her two subordinates came in. “Sit down,” she said with a grave voice, making it clear with her first words that she wouldn't tolerate any protest.

“Healer Fawley,” Hermione began, sitting down; Draco followed her suit with the other visitor chair, now a grim smile on his lips.

“I haven't given you permission to speak yet,” Healer Fawley stopped her, the hand raised as a sign to keep silent. She briefly looked at both of them, her eyes narrowing ever so slightly. “You two are the disgrace of all of St. Mungo's, not just your Department. Our two most prominent staff members turn out to be our biggest disgrace.”

Hermione pressed her lips into a thin line as she heard those words from her superior. A quick side-glance to Draco showed her that he had put up his usual inscrutable mask, but she knew he liked being called a disgrace even less than she did.

“You've let yourself get carried away by your competitive streaks, both of you. This case was your chance to prove you can work together...” Healer Fawley glared at Hermione as she opened her mouth. “Healer Granger, do I have to repeat myself?”

Hermione shook her head and closed her mouth. She didn't want to risk any more than what was already at stake here, and that could very well be her position as a Healer in the worst case.

“Good.” Healer Fawley nodded briefly then opened the file in front of her with a sigh. “The way you acted during this case shows me that neither of you is ready for the position in question. You've put the life of a patient at stake just because you wanted to prove the other wrong–”

“Healer Fawley, we–”

“Healer Malfoy, just like your colleague, you don't have the permission to speak just yet, so close that mouth of yours immediately and let me finish, or you will find yourself without a job at the end of this meeting.”

Hermione couldn't help but smirk when she saw Draco nod in understanding, his lips a barely visible line, his face even paler than usual.

“Now, since you both proved incapable of treating the patient, I had the case transferred to another Healer, known for her ability to think outside the box,” Fawley continued after a sigh and another disapproving glare at her subordinates in front of her. “Healer Lovegood figured out a treatment that not only worked for the initial illness, but also for the symptoms caused by your experiments.”

Hermione sighed. Luna, of all people, the one colleague who couldn't care less about promotion, but the more so about the patients they treated, had solved it. The absurdity of it all made her feel inadequate and unqualified, as if she was in the wrong place to begin with. And all just because she had given in to the urge to prove Malfoy that she was better than him. That she was better than the arrogant arse, who thought that he was better than anyone else—only she was no better.

“Healer Lovegood will also be promoted to the position you two were initially considered for.”

That stung. Hermione could feel her heart sink, and she noticed how taut Draco's jaw was, the only sign in his otherwise still inscrutable mask that the sting was the same for him. They had both fucked up. Gloriously so.

“I see. It seems you realise the gravity of your actions. Good for you,” Fawley commented their looks. “Now, can you both give me a reason for your actions, as succinct as possible?”

Unsure, Hermione and Draco shared a look. There was no satisfying answer to this question, except for having been completely selfish.

“Healer Fawley,” Draco began, sounding surprisingly demure, “in retrospect, our actions cannot be justified, or satisfyingly explained. Healer Granger and I only saw the chance for promotion and completely forgot the patient behind the case.”

Hermione threw him a brief glare, but then she nodded in agreement. “I usually don't like when others speak for me, Healer Malfoy... But I have to admit that he is indeed right. We were blinded by the promotion, probably too eager to prove the other wrong. It's not excusable...”

“Damn right. You endangered a patient unnecessarily. I never thought you'd lose the oath to serve the patients out of sight, Healer Granger, especially not you.” Fawley smiled in satisfaction at Hermione's flinching when she mentioned the oath that Healers had to take as part of their employment. “Healer Malfoy has always been a bit more liberate with the oath, preferring to choose the patients he would grace with his personal treatment.”

Hermione noticed the increasingly disapproving tone in the voice of her superior, a dangerous increase. To keep her hands from fidgeting around, she folded them in her lap.

“However, a few things will change, as we do not wish a repeat of such foolish behaviour as you have shown.” Fawley skipped through a few pages in the file in front of her, apparently searching for some notes. “Ah yes. First thing, you are both put on probation for the next six months–”

“The next six months?” Draco exclaimed, gaping in surprise.

Fawley narrowed her eyes at him for daring to interrupt her. “That is being nice. Some of the council members would have loved to have you dismissed in dishonour, Healer Malfoy. Be glad that this was the minority.”

Even Hermione was shocked to hear that the council had discussed their dismissal, but Draco sat there with his eyes wide, barely remembering to close his mouth again.

“Secondly, Healer Lovegood will be your direct superior, and you will report to her as well as follow whatever orders she gives you. I do not want to hear a single complaint about you both not wanting to do a task. Is that understood?”

Both Hermione and Draco nodded, not in the slightest protesting that Luna was now their superior. It was only a mild consolation that Luna never spoke ill of anyone, but she could be surprisingly direct if she didn't like something.

“In addition, I have asked her to be strict with both of you because I know she tends to be more lenient with her friends. That means you will do whatever she asks, you will treat whatever patient she hands you without any complaints, and you will learn to work as part of a team. Especially you, Healer Malfoy. Whatever deal you had until now is off the table. Decline to treat a single patient without a pretty damn good reason, and you will need to find a new job. Healer Lovegood has a list of acceptable reasons, so there will be no chance of arguing with her.”

Draco slumped momentarily into his seat, showing no sign of protest, except the increasingly taut jaws and the averted gaze. It was clear that he wanted to say something about the perceived unfairness of the situation, but he kept his thoughts to himself—a lesson Hermione knew he had learned the hard way.

Their punishment was hard, but Hermione thought it was justified given they almost risked the patient's life. She sighed dejectedly and leaned back. “Is there anything else?”

Healer Fawley shook her head, her eyes slightly narrowed at Hermione for speaking out of turn. “I've asked Healer Lovegood to re-distribute your weekend shifts–”

“We're not working?” Hermione asked surprised, straightening up. A quick side-glance told her that Draco had wanted to ask the same, as his brows were furrowed and his lips pursed in annoyance.

“No. And I strongly advise you to use the weekend to contemplate your mistakes and your future at St. Mungo's, starting _now_ ,” Healer Fawley replied with a stern look, only barely avoiding a lethal glare. “You're dismissed from this meeting.”

Neither Hermione nor Draco wanted to stay any second longer in Healer Fawley's office, so they immediately made to leave to gather their things from their respective lockers.

“This is going to be fun,” she muttered, passing through the door. “I need a drink.”

“Best idea you've had in a long while, Granger,” Draco responded with a surprisingly tired voice. He stopped in the anteroom when she stayed in the door frame. “Leaky, in fifteen minutes.”

“What?”

“I said, _Leaky in fifteen minutes_. I think that was clear enough or you might need to check your ears...” He made to turn towards the hallway with a short shake of his head.

“You want to have a beer with me, Malfoy?” She followed him, still rather confused about his offer. He couldn't mean it in earnest, could he? “Why the sudden peace offering?”

“I didn't exactly say it was a peace offering. You need a drink, I need a drink. The Leaky is the nearest spot to have one. I'll even buy the first round...” With a short huff, he turned around the corner towards the stairs to hurry down to his locker room.

Hermione stared after him, standing in the middle of the hallway, momentarily lost in thought. The afternoon had already been shit with them being put on probation and everything for their fuck-up, and it just turned rather strange with Draco offering to buy her a drink. But then, only moments later, she let a brief smirk curl up the corners of her lips, and she followed him down towards the locker rooms. Oh, she wasn't going to say no to a drink!

* * *

 

Hours later, they were at the Leaky Cauldron, huddled into a corner at the bar, their third or fourth beer in front of them, and at least one tumbler in front of Draco because he had needed a Firewhisky first to drown his anger.

“I am considering quitting the job, to answer your question earlier,” Draco said, leaning sideways against the bar, his head lazily propped on his hand. “I don't need the money...”

Hermione mirrored his position but instead played with her bottle. “Why do you want to leave?”

With a sigh, he reached for his bottle to have a gulp before answering. “Honestly, we did fuck it up. We almost killed someone with our petty competition.”

“So, it's down to public shame why you'd want to leave?”

“Maybe.” He shrugged and placed his bottle back on the counter in front of him.

Hermione noticed that he was avoiding her gaze, a rare show of weakness from him. “Why did you start as a Healer anyway?”

“Oh come on, Granger, you were at my hearing,” he retorted, adding a sigh, mostly to unsuccessfully hide the sneer. “It was either house arrest or what they called _community service_. It was one way to get back into the good graces of society, so I took the chance.”

Yes, Hermione remembered his hearing; she had been asked to testify. But, in the end, she didn't have to testify at all, as it turned out to be a short formal affair, with him accepting the verdict without further protest. What she remembered most, however, was the brief expression of relief flickering over his face before he had been able to put up his usual inscrutable mask again.

“But now we're both treated like beginners–”

“We acted like beginners, after all.”

“Granger, please. We both know we're their best assets; they can't actually afford to lose us, despite our fuck-up. Maybe I'm better off without this bunch of idiots...”

Oh, she shared his bitter sentiments. With a deep sigh, she lifted her bottle to drink some of her beer and flush down her own disappointment before it could take over. “Luna's not an idiot...”

“She's your friend, of course you'd say that.” He narrowed his eyes at her, even leaned forward.

Not in the least intimidated by his move, she leaned slightly forward as well. “You underestimate her, just like everyone else. She saved the patient for us.”

“I don't like that we'll have to work for her–”

“Speak for yourself!”

“I am,” he replied through gritted teeth. “But you have to admit that she is _your_ friend, not mine.”

“Do you even have any?”

“That's not the point–”

“It is.” She crossed her arms, still leaning against the counter. “You can't rely on your own all the time.”

“You're the one to talk. I watched you work, Granger. You want to do everything yourself. Literally everything. You rely on yourself because everyone else isn't up to your game–”

“You think you are?”

“Isn't that what brought us into this situation?” he replied, a teasing glint in his eye, before he emptied his beer. “We're equals.”

“We're not. You're still an arrogant snarky git–”

“You're an unbearable know-it-all, who can't accept her mistakes,” he retorted, spitting the words out in clear annoyance. “And to think it'd be a nice challenge to work with you...”

“What do you mean?”

“Never mind.” He turned towards the counter to sign the innkeeper that he wanted another bottle.

“No. You think I'm a _nice challenge_?”

He rolled his eyes, even threw his head back. “Hermione, everything about you is a bloody challenge if you haven't noticed. That's what makes you interesting.”

It took Hermione a moment to process his words, as the beer was starting to affect her ability to think properly. She opened her mouth to say something, but then she finally realised what he had just said. “Oh.”

“Yes. _Oh._ ”

“I was wrong earlier,” she said, her voice and face softened. “You're indeed one of the few who _can_ keep up, Draco.”

“I'm the only one, you know that. And you hate it.”

She shook her head to his evident surprise. “I like the sparring, actually. It's a refreshing break from the routine.”

“It is?” Smirking he returned into his previous sideward leaning position, facing her. “Looks like I have a reason to stay after all.”

“Truce?”

He nodded and raised his fresh beer bottle to a toast. “Truce. To an interesting six months of probation...”

 


End file.
